


Underground.

by deadfrnk (SuckMyKilljoy)



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Amnesia, Dystopia, Gore, M/M, Witchcraft, multiple character deaths
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-13
Updated: 2014-11-13
Packaged: 2018-02-25 05:37:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2610434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuckMyKilljoy/pseuds/deadfrnk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No one knew much about this place. Hell, Frank didn't know much about this place, and he'd been here a near five years. All he knew was that maybe once every few months, like clockwork, the Searchers would bring a new one in. And no one ever remembered anything, nothing. But Gerard did.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Underground.

_“We got another one. Found ‘em under some ash and wood. That’s all we know. We’re bringing him in now, though. Should be back before daybreak.”_

 The radio cracked static with the words transmitting from it, and Frank sighed; and sat back on the old wood floors and kicked his heels out, and said out to nothing, “What’s the stability?”

  _“He’s completely dead; had been since before they found him.”_

 “Well, bring ‘em in safe.” Frank grabbed the radio with one hand as he pushed himself up with the other. He crossed the room and set the radio on the windowsill, and waited approximately five seconds—

_“I always do.”_

 Frank shoved the window open, and stuck his face into the chill that he was five years used to, the chill that was only worse when it was seeping through more than holes in the floorboards, and called out, “Got another body. Searchers will be back before daybreak. I’m going to bed.”

 Frank didn’t wait for a reply before he let the window fall shut, cutting off whatever anyone on the other side had begun to say; and he crossed the sparse, dark room, and kicked at the hinge in the center of the floor, until it let the floorboards loose.

 He slipped himself down into the floor, pulling the boards back across as he hit the dirt ground underneath. He yawned, then, and sat himself down on the crooked chunk of mattress in one corner of the basement, and tried to get himself to sleep.

 The Searchers hadn’t found anyone in months. Frank closed his eyes and tried his hardest, but he couldn’t let the thought go. _Ash and wood?_ Maybe it was a fire. The kid was already dead, anyway. They’d bring him back and Frank would shrug and say, “Put him with the rest,” and they would, and that would be that.

 But he couldn’t let go of the thought that that, in fact, wouldn’t be it at all.

 

Frank wasn’t exactly the type of person to blindly assume that everything would be okay. He’d blindly assume that he used to be, before the Underground— but he wouldn’t know, he couldn’t remember. He knew approximately three things about himself, none of which he’d developed himself.

 He knew his name was Frank—because he was told so when he was brought to the Underground; he knew he was the oldest in the Underground—although he didn’t know his age—because when they brought him here, they left him in charge; and he knew that at one point in his _life_ , he lost something—but he couldn’t remember a single damn thing about what it was.

 Frank turned over on the mattress chunk and stared hard at the dirt wall across from him, and tried to tune out the little voice in his head that said the Searchers had finally brought in something _big_. The Searchers brought the dead in all the time, no big deal. Frank would shrug and say, “Put ‘em with the rest,” and they would, and that would be that—that’s how it had always worked. But Frank couldn’t shake the feeling, no matter how hard he tried. He bit back sympathy, and shut his eyes—because if they expected him to fix anything about this when they got back with _him_ , well. Frank would need his beauty rest.

 

**Author's Note:**

> First off, I'd like to say that the updates on this story will be extremely inconsistent and random. It was an idea that I got after a dream I had, and so the story and its concepts are still mostly in beta, as with the title, which I will probably at some point change. I hope you, my readers, enjoy this story as much as I know I will writing it– and maybe, if one day my brother and I can get off our lazy asses, there might even be a comic to go along.
> 
> Tata for now, xok.


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